


Boy, I Want You To Be Happy

by SavannahStanfield27



Category: Baccano!
Genre: Brothers, Canon Compliant, Family, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Music, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:20:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavannahStanfield27/pseuds/SavannahStanfield27
Summary: Maiza often thought of his failures as an older brother. Ronny wished to quiet a mind so loud. Gretto strove to become great.
Kudos: 3





	Boy, I Want You To Be Happy

**Author's Note:**

> I relate the song "Youth" by Glass Animals very heavily to the relationship between Maiza and Gretto. My listening to the song on loop yesterday led to the writing of this fic. I was simply struck with a bit of inspiration to think about the Avaro siblings. I do adore Maiza and Gretto...
> 
> I'll admit, this started as me wanting to write a fic about Maiza and Ronny but ended in my character study of the Avaro siblings relationship. Maiza is one of my favorite Baccano characters and he has limitless potential, in my eyes. I happen to think that there aren't enough fics about 1700's Maiza, so I'd like to contribute more to the community. 
> 
> My favorite Maiza fanfictions are "He Survives, as Always" and "He Disappoints, as Always" by Rev(Ballyhoo). They greatly inspired some of my characterizations of Gretto and my mention of the 'stone wall'. You should definitely check those fics out and the rest of her Baccano fics as well. 
> 
> Hopefully, I'll have more Maiza fics to come in the future, but I'm also working on something for Sickle right now. Many Baccano fics to come in the future, at the very least.

On a day like many others, Maiza found himself once again sinking into his well-worn sofa. Even the quality of the sofa was evidence of the changes in his life. Szilard’s presence had warranted frequent moves from apartment to apartment in a drawn-out attempt to elude the man. Maiza couldn’t remember the last time he had stayed in the same place for more than a month or two, when he had sat on the same furniture long enough to leave a mark of his presence behind. 

_ The mark I’ve left on this world is already far too deep.  _

He took a small sip from the glass of liquor, staring into the amber liquid. That’s where it all began. His naivety led to his choice to summon that ‘demon’, to obtain immortality for the alchemists fleeing Lotto Valentino. It was a foolish dream. If only he hadn’t chosen to study alchemy on that fateful night at the Third Library. If only he had stayed behind at the party instead of accompanying Jean-Pierre and Lebreau. Perhaps everything would have been different.

Would he have remained a delinquent, rebelling against his father and the antiquated ways of the aristocracy? Would he have reformed and made Lotto Valentino a better place? Would his former peers and friends still be alive? 

He sighed to himself, sitting the now empty glass on the low coffee table. It was foolish to ponder the what-ifs in life. He spent many years doing just that, which led to nothing but pent up anger and guilt. He was used to those feelings by now. It was also foolish to down half a bottle of old liqour when he knew he had duties to fulfill the next day. What would the Family think if they saw him like this?

“I believe if the Family saw you drinking your sorrows away on a Wednesday evening there would be various reactions. I’m inclined to believe Firo would attempt to comfort you, ah, but you are his mentor so it might be a bit awkward for him. Yaguruma would lightheartedly scold you and perhaps grace you with some elderly wisdom. In the case of Randy- well, no matter. I can tell by your face that you weren’t looking for a real answer.”

Maiza hadn’t even turned around, nor had he spoken out loud, but the man who had seemingly teleported into his apartment didn’t need to bother with the mortal ways of life...at least, most of them.

“Your logical approach never fails to impress me. How did you even get in? Did you tire of the concept of doors again?”

The other man walked to the chair adjacent to Maiza, taking a seat. “I used the door, but I tried not to make too much noise. Your mind was loud enough. Don’t you ever tire of these thoughts?”

“I do, Ronny, very often in fact. But this is my burden to bear.”

The other man, Ronny, leaned back in his chair, contemplating. “Humans are so greedy, they say they want for nothing yet deep down they always want for everything. You know you could simply ask me to do something to ease your spirits. I could implant better feelings into your head, or bring some of those people back...in some way. In all our years you’ve never asked me for anything, when you’re the person I’d most likely grant a request to.”

Maiza met the other man’s quizzical stare with a comfortable smile.“Your logic has failed you there, I did ask you for the elixir.”

Ronny smirked, anticipating the answer. “I believe that’s an exception, our time together hadn’t begun then, we weren’t proper companions. Well, no matter. You know, I often find talking to you is like playing a match of chess. We’re always trying to corner the other.”

He had always been rather skilled at changing the subject when he felt like it. 

However, noticing Ronny’s habit of moving from subject to subject was a skill Maiza possessed. 

“You’d think after all this time it would get easier to best you, but you remain stubborn as ever. I know you won’t let it go, so I’ll answer. I don’t ask you for things like that because it isn’t fair to the people I’ve hurt for me to cheat my way through my responsibilities. I have to bear the weight of my own decisions without your help. And besides, you don’t tend to use your powers so frivolously.”

Ronny tapped the arm of the chair absentmindedly. “No, I suppose I don’t. I think I would make an exception; but I understand your mindset a little, at least.”

Maiza could tell Ronny was itching to ask him another question. He had learned to read the man’s face over the years. He was right, as Ronny carefully spoke up.

“You’ll have to forgive my cruelty but my own curiosity persists. I know your pessimistic mindset well enough now to identify that you’re most likely thinking about your brother. Somewhere in those thoughts you have to have pondered what you would do if you could take it all back.” 

Maiza leaned back into the couch, a cynical smile adorning his face. “You always know how to get right to the point. I think if I could do anything it would be to be there for Gretto. I was never the brother that I should’ve been. I let my own selfish anger and desires build up. I told myself it was fine and that Gretto would grow up to be a good person without me, but instead I ruined it all for him.”

The dim light of the room danced upon Maiza’s glasses as he reminisced of days gone by.

“It’s silly really. In those last days aboard the Advenna Avis I felt like I was being handed a new beginning with Gretto. It was the most time we’d spent together in years. Ah, even saying that out loud makes me sound so neglectful, but I’m not one for lies.There were so many preparations to be done for the ceremony during the day. But in the nights in my cabin we would talk of Lotto Valentino, of our father, of his Sylvie, of the future. I thought I could finally be a real brother to him, but in the end I really screwed that up as well.”

Maiza glanced over at Ronny, whose face refused to show any emotion or thought. He didn’t expect him to empathize with the story. 

“You have told me many times about your brother, but it’s always your regrets that you focus on. I think you should focus on the positive times you had, even if they were few and far between. Humans are complex creatures, Gretto’s own feelings towards you must have been strong for him to join you upon the Advenna Avis.”

“He joined us to save Sylvie, his lover. I doubt his own personal feelings towards me factored into it.”

Ronny met his eyes. “You could always ask Firo.”

It wasn’t as if Maiza hadn’t considered that. The realization that Firo’s mind contained Gretto’s essence wasn’t lost on him. He’d mulled over that revelation for many nights after that fateful 1930 evening. He’d always come to the same conclusion, though.

Maiza shook his head. “When Firo devoured Szilard I vowed to myself that I would never force him to delve into those memories. He’s so young and already his mind is cluttered with the memories of so many who were killed. I don’t know what that’s like, but I think it must be very difficult for him. Firo is strong, but I know that even he must be overwhelmed at times. To ask him to delve into Gretto’s thoughts would be cruel.”

“Cruelty aside, he would not hesitate to do that for you.” Ronny gestured. 

“And that is the very reason that I will not use him like that. You know well that I’ve always seen a little of Gretto in Firo, but I can't confuse the two. If I ask Firo to bring up Gretto’s memories and secrets then what would stop me from treating Firo just as a vessel for Gretto. I won’t disrespect either of them in that way.” Maiza was firm in this decision. He cared for Firo far too much to let his own selfish desires get in the way of their friendship. 

Ronny didn’t seem surprised. After all, this wasn’t their first discussion on the matter and it likely wouldn’t be the last.“Human greed is quite interesting. I admire your dedication to your morals. Well, no matter. Enough talk of sadness and regret. Tell me a happy memory of Gretto. After all, I came here to cheer you up.”

Maiza cracked a bitter grin at Ronny’s clumsy attempt at moving on from heavy matters. 

“To think I would have to be cheered up by a ‘demon’ like yourself, what does that say about my own character?”

Ronny smirked. “I’m no Isaac or Miria but I find I’m rather skilled at cheering others up. Well,-“

“- no matter.” Maiza interjected. “Your speech habits never fail to amuse me. If it’s a happy memory you want then I think I have a few to share.”

He let his mind wander to warmer climates and brighter days.

“The first time I was permitted to meet Gretto it was a few days after his birth. Father insisted Mother rest and that I remained at my lessons. Ah, and how could I forget some of those dreadful lessons? I spent days learning trivial things like the piano and Latin verbs. Father was grooming me into the perfect heir, you see.”

“And yet here you are as a member of the Camorra instead.”

“Aristocracy and organized crime isn’t as different as you’d think. But back to then. I remember approaching Gretto’s bassinet and peering over the side. He was wondrously small and fragile looking. He was whining and crying as all newborns do, fidgeting about. But he suddenly noticed me and went so still. I froze, terrified that he was about to start wailing at the sight of me. If Father found out I upset the baby I knew I was in for punishment. God, even thinking about it now is scary. Yet, he didn’t wail. He stared at me and I stared back, pondering each other. I think that was when it really sunk in that this was my brother. I could feel the connection between us growing. It sounds silly but to me that was a very impactful moment.”

“You must consider now that he was probably just curious why a strange person was peering into his bed.” Ronny interjected. 

“Perhaps, but I wanted to believe that it was because he knew I was his brother, that I would take care of him.” Maiza ruefully smiled. 

“As Gretto and I both grew I began to have less time for him. Our age difference was a bit unfortunate, I was around nine when he was born. When he was old enough to ‘play’ I was moving onto bigger things and more lessons. We didn’t have the quality time that commoner children might have had. We shared a few outings and lessons at times. Father took us horseback riding, and we practiced shooting game, but there wasn’t much room for quality time when we were both focused on impressing him. 

And once I reached my teens I began spending less and less time at home. I formed the Rotten Eggs and quit many of my lessons, to the anger of my father. You know, delinquents really never change. They’re the same today as we were back then, thinking they’re on top of the world just because of their own petty crimes. 

But I still had to go home sometimes. When I did, I always saw Gretto waiting for me. There was a high stone wall near our manor- outside the aristocrat’s quarter- and he would climb atop it, watching for me to walk up the path. He would smile so brightly at me as he climbed down, but I never had anything for him but cold remarks most of the time. I was quite the angry person.I brushed him off quite often but he never quit. Even when I started studying alchemy and returned home, I’d be gone for days at a time. I worked like a madman to learn everything. Sometimes I’d stay at the library for an entire week. But when I came back Gretto was always there. He’d greet me and ask about my day and about what I was learning. I was so wrapped up in my own studies that I didn’t have time to entertain him. Again and again I brushed him off.”

  
Ronny glanced at Maiza who was lost in the story, a rare look of peace settled upon his face.

“Sometimes things were different. I’d feel generous and we’d take a seat in the shade, lounging on the cool grass. We’d share a pastry or some bread and cream. Gretto would tell me about his studies - he was never one for books really- and how he wanted to be like me. I joked that if he wanted to be an alchemist he’d better study up on his mathematics and sciences. He’d pout and rebuke me right back. 

‘But you became an alchemist and you barely even focused on your lessons. I’m going to be just like big brother Maiza, I swear it.’

I wouldn’t dare to ruin those joyful days but I would always secretly check his bare arms for any bruises or marks. Father was always very temperamental, you see. He was rather harsh on Gretto. I only realized later that my avoidance of home probably made that worse. In return, Gretto would scold me for spending so much time away. He’d look up at me with those kind eyes and fuss about me like a parlor maid... ”

Maiza ceased his story and looked to Ronny, who surprisingly was paying rapt attention to the tale. 

“I didn’t take you for the type to enjoy a story like this.”

“Even I like to lose myself in the memories of humans sometimes, especially ones as fascinating as yours. To me it seems that Gretto adored you as his revered older brother.”

Maiza sat back. “I hope I was at least a positive force in his life during those few times we spent together. Yet I often think that sometimes he must have resented me for leaving him all alone in our home to fend for himself.”

Ronny took a puff from his cigarette. It had appeared at some point during the story.

“Maiza, this may seem sudden but can I ask for your trust? I think I have a solution to this issue of yours.”

Maiza had a bad feeling about the situation, but nodded hesitantly. “I trust you.”

“Tell me more about the days when you would sit with Gretto in the shade, describe it so that I feel like I was there.”

Maiza let out a breath he had been holding. “That’s all? Geez, you made me think you were about to do something serious.

I’m sure you can see Lotto Valentino somehow without me having to tell you. You have a knack for the uncanny. But I digress. The days of the summer were sunny and deathly hot. The weather was sticky, and perspiration would collect on my brow while we sat. The grass was cool and as green as green could be.”

Maiza relaxed into the couch. “It was utopian, almost, looking back on it now. I’m sure back then I felt like Gretto was being such a nuisance, but those moments of calm were so peaceful to me. Why- I can almost feel the heat of those hot summer days.”

In fact, the living room was abnormally warm for a November evening in New York. It was like the sun was beating down on the two. That was impossible, unless Maiza’s heater had begun to malfunction. 

Maiza had closed his eyes and was lost in thought, speaking more freely than he usually would. “The stone path by the grass was so jagged. If you walked barefoot on it, like the village kids would, you were sure to get a cut or two.”

Ronny, sitting across from him, smiled to himself. “Your vivid recollections make this all the more easier.”

Maiza hadn’t heard him, lost in days gone by. “I can still hear the smile in his voice. Gretto was always smiling. I wondered how someone with a family like ours could be so happy. I envied him, sometimes. Isn’t that cruel of me? To envy him so? Sometimes I wonder how I could have been such a selfish man at times.” 

“-isn’t fair, big brother! You always say that…”

Maizas eyes snapped open at the sound of that youthful voice. He wasn’t in his living room anymore, he was standing on the very same path he had described. The air was hot and sticky, the stone wall was exactly as he remembered. 

“I must have had so much to drink that I’ve fallen into delusion.” He spun around, looking at the familiar scenery.

“Not quite.”

Maiza turned to see Ronny standing behind him, the two looking out of place in their modern shirts and ties. 

“I’ve constructed this from your memories and from my own resources. I can’t give you your brother back, and I can’t convince you to be selfish and use me, but I can give you a moment in your happiest times.”

As if on cue, Maiza heard the youthful voice again. “I want to be just like you!”

He whipped around to see a younger version of himself and Gretto sitting in the grass, passing a bit of bread back and forth. What a thing it was to see yourself. This Maiza was only a bit younger, in one of his common blue waistcoats and his round spectacles. It was clearly from the time of Maiza, rather than the days of Aile. Even then, the stress was apparent on his face as he spoke back to Gretto.

“Father would never allow two alchemists in the family. Work hard on your studies and become something important.” The younger Maiza took a bite from the bread and passed it to Gretto.

Gretto pouted, shaking his full head of brown curls. “You won’t change my mind, brother. I’ll show father and become like you. I don’t want to live a life of aristocracy. I want to see the world! I want to do so many things. But I want to do them with you. We can be alchemists together!”

The younger Maiza scoffed. “If you want to be with me just be with me, why throw alchemy into it?”

Gretto took a bite of the bread, speaking with his mouth full. “Just being by your side might be a burden to you. I’m going to be great, and make you proud.” 

The younger Maiza cracked a small smile, playfully shoving his brother as he leaned back on his other arm. “Your dreams are vast, brother. I admire your diligence.”

It was clearly one of their happier days, prior to the fear-filled seasons of the Dormentaires and of the fires that threatened to destroy them all.

The younger Maiza slowly rose from the grass. “I must be getting back to my studies. Professor Dalton is teaching me something very important currently. I shouldn’t dawdle.”

“You just got back...next time you come home please stay a little longer.” Gretto whined.

The younger Maiza sighed. “I’m quite busy, but I’ll try.” He abruptly ended the conversation and began walking back down the path, around the current Maiza and Ronny.

Gretto watched his brother leave, a peaceful look on his face. He collected the leftover bread and took a hearty bite, talking to himself as he chewed. 

“Next time brother comes home I’ll distract him for ten more minutes...hopefully I’ll have something good to tell him then. I’ll make him proud…”

Ronny, who hadn’t been paying much attention to the situation, turned to Maiza, who was standing very still. His eyes were trained on the image of Gretto, sitting in the grass and watching the retreating form of his older brother. Ronny knew Maiza’s thoughts were likely running a mile a minute as he looked at the face he hadn’t seen in 200 years. All Ronny could do was put a hand on the other man’s back. It seemed that was all it took for Maiza to lose his composure, his stiff shoulders falling immediately at the sudden touch.

He began softly weeping, an act he hadn’t done in years. He wept for the brother he had lost and for the brother he had neglected. He wept for the town that had always seemed too small for him, and the house that was far too large. He wept for the friends he had lost and the new friends he had accidentally gained. But as he wept, he saw the smile upon Gretto’s face and knew that he had been happy. Nothing could take away the grief he felt at the loss of his brother, but the knowledge that Gretto had been happy was enough to remove a few pounds of the resentment and anger he felt at himself that threatened to crush him.

He turned to Ronny and found they were once again in his living room, with Ronny now next to him on the couch.

“Why would you do this for me?” He got out between small sobs.

Ronny removed his hand from the other man’s back and smiled. “It wasn’t an act of charity, mind you. I was also curious about your relationship with your brother. I wanted to know, to see. But I wanted you to see as well. You had to see that you made his life happy.

Everyone makes mistakes in their lifetimes. Many never notice their mistakes and fail to repent. But you were so young, how could you know what would happen? All you can do is continue to grow. Gretto would be proud to see you where you are now.”

The two men sat on the couch in silence deep into the night, until Ronny eventually took his leave.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He looked up at the apartment window from the street. The light was still on. He wasn’t a fool. He knew Maiza would be thinking over the night's events for a long while. 

Ronny thought of the many years he had spent by Maiza’s side. He had seen many emotions in the man, but rarely could he see the raw grief that had slipped through tonight. 

He thought of the Smile Junkie. 

_ You told me to stay by Maiza’s side until he smiled. Don’t think I’m staying for your rash promise. Maiza has smiled many times, but I find myself staying here. I don’t want to just see his smile, I want to see all sides of him. I find myself learning more about Maiza and members of the Family every day. Humans are so predictable, but they always keep me guessing. Could you call it friendship? Perhaps… _

_ Many days have passed since my time with that group from long ago. Admittedly, I never thought I’d find companionship like that again.  _

_ The fight and they love and they make mistakes. But in the end they embrace one another with pure loyalty and goodness. Even Maiza who holds the weight of the world on his shoulders possesses a good demeanor.  _

_ Maiza thinks of his younger brother Gretto like the sun. He leans towards him like a newly sprung flower in the moist dirt of a new Springtime. _

_ Perhaps the Martillo family is my sun and I am the flower.  _

_ Well, no matter.  _

Ronny took one last drag on his never-shortening cigarette and walked away from the apartment in which the man who he had come to call a friend was beginning to find hope in grief, as he once again thought of his brother's radiant smile on those hot summer days. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, Kudos is appreciated!


End file.
